Sunday, August 23, 2015

Review: Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

Let me preface this by saying that I have never really reviewed a classic, so this is a new sensation for me. But I felt too strongly about this book not to. Anyway...

Catch-22 chronicles fictional characters in a fictional country fighting in the very real World War II. The majority of these characters are soldiers with interesting names and even more interesting idiosyncrasies. The primary character (in the myriad of characters) is a fellow named Yossarian with a stronger than usual disdain for his superior officers and the authority they hold over him. You can't really blame him for said disdain, as Colonel Cathcart is  continually raising the number of missions required to complete service. 

With this trend, you'd think that more soldiers would rebel. However, most of them are only quietly disgruntled and surprisingly contented. The catch in Catch-22 states that "a man is considered insane if he willingly continues to fly dangerous combat missions, but if he makes the necessary formal request to be relieved of such missions, the very act of making the request proves that he's sane and therefore ineligible to be relieved." Aside from death, desertion, or indefinite physical illness (which Yossarian often relies on), there is legitimately no way out. (I never quite got the 22 part of Catch-22. There's not a catch 1-21... :P)

This is easily one of the funniest books I've read in my life. But, thing is, I can't really explain why it's so funny. A whole lot of it made me chuckle to myself, but huge chunks of it made me laugh out loud until I almost cried. Seriously, this is a funny book. Again, I'm not sure why, but that doesn't change the fact that it is. Especially the scene with the moaning men... Good gosh, scenes like that I had to read over and over because they are simply too comical to only read once.

Despite the hilarity, this book can be confusing, what with the multitude of characters and the fact that the story doesn't necessarily follow a chronological order. Also, if you're like me and know next to nothing about the military ranking system, it can become daunting trying to keep up with who is in charge of whom. It all gets a bit overwhelming when you think about it too much. The process I took to reading this was to try not to overthink everything. I just sort of accepted it all, let it roll over me. It's definitely not a slow read, but the reading process itself can be quite time consuming.

I was also pleasantly surprised when a story began forming out of the babble. Don't get me wrong; I enjoyed the book from the start, but, for a very long while, it seems like nonsensical ramblings from irrational soldiers and unreasonable officers. For that long while, it seems almost like Joseph Heller is painting a portrait of each individual character but leaves no overlap from character to character. There are the characters and there is the world, but the story of those characters and that world itself emerge slowly and out of a clutter of confusion.

I guess it's to be expected with a war story, but there are harsh bits of tragedy that pop up in the book. You can't have a war without violence or bloodshed, but the brutality in these pages is thrown in randomly and without warning. Some of the passages manage to freeze the world for a moment. Most of the story is a goofy, ironic view of the world. It's so absurd and silly the majority of the time that it is very easy to forget the serious subject in which it is really about.

All in all, I think this is a brilliant book. You probably had to be pretty bright back then to get a word added to the dictionary, before everyone became ridiculous.

As for the ending, I think it is perfect-the only way out of the Catch that makes sense for Yossarian, but I won't say more. Apparently there is a sequel, but I am not yet sure if I want to read it. I hate when sequels ruin the original for me, and that happens more often than not. Unlike lots of other books with lots of others words, all of the words in this particular book feel necessary. I wouldn't add or detract a thing.

SIDE NOTE: I intend to name my next pet Yossarian. It just feels right.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Review: The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

The Perks of Being a Wallflower begins on a somber note when young Charlie finds out that his closest (and only) friend has committed suicide. Charlie does not take the death well, and he enters his first year of high school suffering from severe depression and loneliness.

He befriends his English teacher, who gives him books to read throughout the novel, but his loneliness is not abated until he meets stepsiblings Sam and Patrick at a football game. The two of them are both three years older than Charlie, but they are quick to include him in their group of friends and to show him what it is like to be in high school. They alter his taste in music, introduce him to cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs, and invite him to their various social gatherings.

Charlie's home life is not dysfunctional, but it is still somewhat strained. His family is very present in this story, particularly his sister who is also still in high school and part of a physically abusive relationship. Charlie struggles to cope with his sister's relationship as well as the death of his Aunt Helen, who is the only member of his family he ever felt connected with.

Throughout the course of the novel, Charlie goes through varying states in his relationships with all of the other characters, particularly with his family, Sam, and Patrick. Despite his friendships and somewhat decent home life, his depression continues to worsen due to the imminent separation he will undergo when all his friends leave for college. As the departure grows near, Charlie discovers a myriad of his own hidden memories that sends him into a rapid downward spiral. His recovery promises to be a difficult one.

Perhaps more than any other YA novel I have read, this book conveys what it is like to be a troubled youth with no external evidence as to why those feelings exist. The main character is kind and likable as well as easy to relate to. Even if the reader has not gone through Charlie's particular experiences, he fills in the gaps so that there is no room for confusion. Also, the overall tone of Charlie's story is very conversational and easy to follow. Charlie himself says that he writes like he talks. This conversational writing gives the reader a sense of being present within the story, rather than as a bystander looking in.

The writing is both engaging and informal. It is very intimate, like receiving a letter from a friend. Charlie does not spend much time describing places or people, but rather leaves these elements to the reader's imagination. He does not deviate often from what is actually going on. This makes it difficult for the reader to lose interest, since there is always something new occurring.

The story is extremely rich in regard to emotions. There are new and deep emotions on every page. It is quite refreshing to see the narrator so openly acknowledge the variety of his feelings, but, at the same time, he sounds incredibly… indifferent. This in itself gives the story a distinction from many others. Charlie's passivity is quite the opposite from what one would expect, given the depths of his feelings; he is one of the least defined characters I have ever encountered because of this passive nature. Despite this, he is very lovable and it is easy to become attached to him.

Not much is really revealed about the side characters in a broad sense, but rather, there are little specific things, such as Patrick's taste in music or what kind of poetry Mary Elizabeth prefers. I initially came away from the story thinking I didn't know the characters very well, but then, maybe these little details make them feel more like people after all.

This book is a great example of a young man coming out of his shell and facing his issues head on, though it takes a great deal of time and effort as well as self-actualization. There’s just about every controversial teen issue in existence: abortion, homosexuality, drugs, depression, loneliness, alcohol, altercations, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and yadda yadda ya. But these are solid issues and are very accurately portrayed.

Plus, you can sit down and read it an afternoon.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Review: Twisted by Laurie Halse Anderson

Twisted's opening pages begin with Tyler finishing up community service he got from pulling a prank on his high school. The story quickly establishes his estranged, uncomfortable relationship with his family and other people around him. We are also introduced to Bethany, the rich, popular girl that Tyler seems to have fancied for a long but unknown amount of time.

At a party for his father's office (where we learn that Bethany's father is Tyler's father's boss), Bethany's twin brother, Chip, pushes Tyler and sends Bethany falling into glass shards that rip up her foot. Later, when forced by his mother to apologize, he and Bethany begin the start of a not-relationship.

Tyler grows closer to Bethany as the school year begins, but she is unfaithful to him and, all around, a rather unpleasant person to be around. She invites him to a party where she attempts to seduce him. When he declines, this sets off the downfall of the not-relationship. Afterward, Tyler is accused of taking nude pictures of Bethany and posting them on the Internet. Because of these accusations, assumptions are formed, leaving Tyler hated and shunned by most of the student body and forced to take his classes in private.

Throughout the novel, Tyler struggles with suicidal thoughts and bouts of extreme anger. He contemplates the pros and cons of running away versus self-harm. He is inexplicably attached to Bethany, even though she takes him for granted and treats him horribly. This is the case with a lot of high school relationships- one giving while the other is taking, but Bethany is a particularly deplorable person and I find it hard to justify Tyler's ongoing feelings for her. 

The book is predictable in many ways, but, in just as many ways, it is not. For one, I was under the assumption in the beginning that the book would be mostly about Tyler's inner healing and then the external healing of his relationship with his family. Rather, the main conflict is centered on the nude pictures and Tyler's alleged role in taking them. Then again, one thing that really surprised me was to find out how crucial his relationship with his father is. While reading the book, I just saw it as one of Tyler's many issues that skirted along on the sidelines, but, in the end, the most pivotal moment comes from a confrontation with his father. 

Perhaps I just view the overall book as predictable because I have preconceived notions how Laurie Halse Anderson's stories usually end, but aside from that, I actually don't find suspense a necessary element in a story like this one. I got to enjoy reading it for what it is- just a recounting of a troubled youth, looking to find a place where he is accepted. I enjoyed his voice, the way he tells stories.

It's hard to believe how quickly everyone you know can turn on you. I don't mean that it's hard to believe in the sense that the book portrays it unbelievably. People will do that; there's nothing fictional about it. However, it was quite incredible to feel some of Tyler's rather powerful emotions right alongside him. He certainly seemed like a real teenage guy for all of the following reasons: strained relationship with parents, being bullied and rejected, lusting after an unattainable popular girl, desiring rebellion, nurturing anger and isolation, etc.

Oh, and there's the endearing quality of his video game addiction. I don't see gaming as often as expected in YA books and, when I do, it's often trite or unnecessary. In this case, his video game use is not only relevant, it is significant. I always hate giving away too much of the end, but many of the metaphorical or subtle occurrences in this book are mirrored directly through Tyler's progress through a very difficult video game. It's not just intended for the reader to see it this way; Tyler himself views his avatar's status as a reflection of his own life.

As a longtime Laurie Halse Anderson fan, Twisted felt just a bit subpar compared to Speak or Wintergirls. But Twisted is important because it is brutally honest about issues that many people tend to avoid. Tyler does not lie about his suicidal urges, does not try to shun his impulses to physically wound those who have damaged him emotionally, and does not attempt to disguise his sexual desires when he is around Bethany. Most significantly, the book allows us a glimpse into the mind of a troubled teen that has, for the most part, been abused mentally and emotionally his entire life.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Review: Legend by Marie Lu (Legend #1)

Legend takes place in the future United States, but the states have been divided into two separate countries, the Republic and the Colonies. Within the Republic, all children at age 10 take a Trial, to assess a number of things, including their physical and mental abilities, and to find a place for them within society. The ones with high scores are privileged, given access to education, wealth, and thorough medical attention. The ones with lower scores are sentenced to a life of poverty, menial labor, and sickness. The ones that fail are said to go off to work at labor camps; however, they are never seen nor heard from again.

June is a young elite, the first person ever to score a perfect 1500 on her Trial. At the ripe age of fifteen, she has already finished college and military training and is well on her way to working up the ranks. Day, on the other hand, is the Republic's most elusive and wanted criminal. After he fails his own Trial, he manages to escape and has been giving the Republic grief ever since, carrying out elaborate heists and slews of perfect crimes.

"Sometimes if feels like we're the same person born into two different worlds."
And that about sums up the character dynamic. The two protagonists come from opposite ends of the spectrum, but they manage to essentially be the same person.

It is not a bad thing that these two people are so similar. For one thing, they are both fiercely loyal, highly intelligent, and, best of all, absolutely lethal. For another thing, they both hold strong ties to family, and these ties represent their singular weaknesses. I personally did not find it unbelievable how they make minuscule perceptions that lead unerringly to the truth. I overlooked the unlikeliness of this kind of perceptiveness, because, quite simply, it fit with both of their characters.

The only thing I find unbelievable about the main characters is the fact that these two geniuses are fifteen years old. Because of their smarts, their skills, and even their social graces, both Day and June seems years older than what they are. But I guess that is why they are called legends, why they are called prodigies.

As far as this dystopian world goes, I for one am glad that Marie Lu left so much to the imagination. I detest nothing more in dystopia than the author trying to explain everything away with little trinkets of fictional history that don't actually make sense. Many of them try to get us from Point A (our current time) to Point B (the world of their story), but this is just exhaustive and counterproductive. In Legend's case, only the date of the month and the day of the week are given. There is minimal history and no implication at all of what year it takes place in. 

Furthermore, I don't think this book actually needs to be a dystopia. In fact, it may be better if the Future USA took no part in it at all. This world does not need the states (or any other real country) to be a complete story. The world could stand on its own. Because of the overpopulation of dystopia in the book pool, I think Legend would've had more potential had it separated itself from the genre.

The story passes in a whirlwind, but it is never too rapid to follow. Rather, it is so compelling that the pages just slip by. Aside from a few minor questions, like what happens to Day's father and what the Colonies are like, I think the amount of information provided is perfect. It does not get bogged down in the details, but almost everything is provided for you if you pay attention. Sure, elements of the story are predictable, but, in this case, that does not make it any less enjoyable.

Perhaps for the first time in a long time, I am greatly looking forward to reading the sequels. I have a love-hate relationship with series, as they take a good deal of dedication and time when there are just so many other great books to read. It's been a while since I've finished a book and have been hungry for more of the same characters, of the same world, and of the same story. This book did that for me. This is by no means my favorite book, but I am still highly impressed with it. It has been a refreshing taste of dystopia. And here I thought the genre was dying out. 

I highly recommend this book to anyone that has the faintest interest in dystopia or even science fiction/fantasy. Even if you end up disliking it, the story blazes by so quickly there's no excuse for not reading it. If all of Marie Lu's other books are as good as this one, I intend to read every single one of them. I still can't believe it took me so long to read this one.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Review: Paper Towns by John Green

Paper Towns is told from the perspective of a boy named Quentin, who has been in love with his next-door neighbor, Margo, since they were young kids. Apparently close in childhood, they have since drifted apart, her to the popular crowd, and him to the band geeks. One night, Margo climbs into Q's window and invites him to chauffeur her around on a night of highly specific pranks targeted at those she believes have wronged her.

Because of his strong obsession for Margo, Q does everything that she asks of him, even breaking into SeaWorld and removing an eyebrow off a longtime bully. As the night goes on, he develops the impression that things will change between the two of them. Much to his dismay, Margo does not attend school the next day, or any day henceforth. Q develops an even stronger obsession of needing to know where she went and if she is still alive. He spends hours and days trying to figure out what he believes are clues to where she went.

Despite the exciting premise of this story, I was surprisingly bored by the entire thing. At no point did I truly enjoy it, although there are random bits of laugh-out-loud humor. Those bits are few and far between, but, when they do occur, they are worth the wait. Much of the story is Q thinking about Margo, Q talking about Margo, Q going off on various hunches to see if he can find Margo. It's all about Margo, and, quite frankly, I don't see the appeal. She is a completely unsympathetic character, and, if all our main character cares about is Margo, then he is unsympathetic too.

This is unfortunate, because I quite enjoyed just about every other character in the book. His best friend Radar is great, with his intelligence that spans absolutely everything and his parents' collections of Black Santas. The other best friend, Ben, is hilarious, even though he can be beyond abrasive. Even Q’s parents are fabulous. For the longest time, they were my favorite part in the story. They are both therapists, thus making our narrator is the most "well-adjusted person in the world." That bit may not be true, since he is clearly delusional about Margo, but it is still wonderful to observe the parents' back-and-forth discussions that involve psychoanalyzing whatever they are talking about.

One thing I did like about the book is the ongoing theme of Moby Dick. The attention is not focused so much on the book itself, but whether Captain Ahab is a hero or a madman for his relentless pursuit of a whale. When Q's class is assigned an essay to answer the hero vs. madman question, he picks the hero option. When he does this, it becomes clear that he is meant to be Ahab and Margo the whale. That's essentially what the story is: Q relentlessly chasing after an obscure idea of a person, someone that he has set up on a pedestal for almost all of his life.

I don't mind that Q's character is similar to others in John Green books, such as Colin in An Abundance of Katherines or Miles in Looking for Alaska, although all three protagonists are essentially identical. That's not the problem. The problem is really that all of these boys allow girls to push them around and dictate their lives and still manage to think of said girls as ethereal heroines deserving of any and all praise. This trait is detestable and its ongoing repetition baffles me.

I will say: most of this book bored me to tears and the only reason I kept reading was to see what really happened with Margo (even though I cared for her even less than I cared for Quentin), but I am still glad I read it. John Green does write quirky, intelligent characters that are enjoyable, but I think the more important thing is that this book felt real. All the angst of high school could not possibly be better expressed. Unfortunately, the malaise and monotony could not be better expressed either.

The literary references in the book are pretty great, although there’s nothing truly obscure. There's Slaughterhouse-Five, The Bell Jar, Leaves of Grass, Moby Dick, and perhaps a few more that I have forgotten. The book has little bits of wisdom spread throughout, as well as practical philosophy to live by.

I’m glad I read this book. I’m glad I found out what all the fuss was about. But I definitely don’t intend to buy into all the hype next time.